These Endless Days
by Quatoria23
Summary: Being, in part, an account of the exploits of one Tara Maclay, white witch; concerning her death, life, and ultimate fate...
1. About a Girl

So I'm writing this authors note - more like introduction, since this is the first (and I mean very first) item I have ever posted for general consumption and ridicule. All I have to say for myself is the following:  
  
1. I am a very slow writer, being a member of the military and having other duties... not that I've ever whipped out the Palm and jotted a few things down while I was at work, cause that would be wrong. I also have this really horrible, sad, debilitating addiction to pewter. More specifically, to the playing of a game called Warhammer 40,000, which requires much investment of time and effort building and painting models. This project (which has actually been in the works since the end of Season 6 aired) has been put on hold several times to support my 40K habit, most notably a 3 month span where i worked tirelessly to prepare for Games Day 2003 in Baltimore, where I represented for the Dark Angels (and still got whupped.) But anyway, I'm sure no one here cares about that, so I'll shut up. (And if you do, awesome - drop me a line.)  
  
2. Having admitted and come to terms with the fact that I am a slow writer, I have worked ahead to have material prepared for posting on a semi-regular basis in the oh-so-likely event i get stalled. Cause I will. But, if nobody is interested, I'll keep it to myself until the whole things ready - which I have no idea when will happen. SO, please review if you'd like to see more. Feedback is like crack, really - or pewter. I love getting critiques about stuff I'm doing, because EVERY SINGLE PIECE OF FEEDBACK i get will either a) motivate me to write more or b)improve the quality of said writing. So don't hesitate to throw down those long, involved reviews, or just send me an email - even if you're a perfect stranger. I want to hear your opinions.  
  
3. I need to make some acknowledgements. First, I'd like to thank echo, who really inspired me to try writing something of my own (even though i've never really talked to her, or done anything but post a few reviews... so if you read this... thanks! You rock!) Secondly, echo, Jinni, and Fyrie, who heavily influenced my writing style and format for this type of prose. I strive to be like you guys. I have Drop, Snake Charming, Single Blond Elf and 8th Weasley on my Palm Pilot. :) And, if you can't tell, I've been reading a lot of Tolkien. Flair for the dramatic much?  
  
And the standard disclaimer: I do not own BtVS, just like it a bit too much. Everything you recgonize here is the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, and im sure some other people too. Thanks to Joss for creating such a rich world we can all care about so much.  
  
And on with the show!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Tara died.  
  
And that was the beginning.  
  
She remembered... well, she wasn't sure what she remembered. There was a room, and a girl... Her memory, fragmented though it was, buckled around the hazy images of a petite... girl? woman? with pale, creamy skin and hair the color of a warm flame, with a radiant smile that made her feel all warm and squishy inside.  
  
And she remembered pain. There was lots of pain.  
  
Her back arched, lungs gasping for breath as if surfacing from a long swim, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the cold, white stone floor. Sensations assailed her. Cold, fragrant air, smooth, polished stone, and sight - a flood of bright white light and shadow, all angles and hard edges. She could feel her hair, the weight of it, hanging from her head, scratching and sliding about her neck and shoulders. She could taste the dry air as she gasped for breath. She could hear her own anguished cry as she awoke. But most importantly, she could feel the magic.  
  
It boiled beneath the surface of her skin. Tara (at least thats what she thought her name was) was astonished at the intensity of it. Power flowed through her veins, ancient and primal. It was an altogether different feeling than what she was used to. Her power usually felt... subtle and sublime, not like this river of boiling lava raging in the depths of her soul. Gasping and coughing, Tara dragged herself to her knees. Her hand flew to her breast.  
  
"Whoa..." she whispered. "What is t-this? W-What is wrong with me?"  
  
Then she remembered that she was dead.  
  
With the surreal clarity of a dream, she recalled the sharp pressure of the bullet entering her back, piercing her heart, spattering her lifeblood on her best friend's blouse, spraying bits of blood and bone on the girls face. Her deep green eyes were open wide, her soft lips parted in abject horror.  
  
And it had been such a beautiful blouse, too.  
  
Tara's scream rang out in the still, silent air. Her thoughts were barely coherent, but the emotional trauma was sharp, raw and ragged all at the same time. Her chest burned with every breath. Enormous pressure crushed at her skull... the world was closing in. The one person she had ever loved was lost to her.  
  
Tara choked off a sob, blinking back tears. The massive, cosmic injustice of the whole damn situation was really quite... funny. Or sad. Both, actually. In an ironic sort of way. 'What can't we face if we're together...' her mind turned over the song she and her friends sang earlier that year. Their track record had really been quite remarkable. Angel, Spike, the Mayor, the Initiative and Adam, Glorificus... innumerable vampires and minor demons. Oh - and three weaselly little nerds with a gun. Dammit.  
  
Tara was sprawled on the stone floor, her sobs racking the air. Time passed... she wasn't sure how much, nor did she care. Her eyes were dry and all itchy, having run out of tears long before..  
  
"Are we feeling better now?"  
  
"AAAHHH!!"  
  
Tara recoiled away from the newcomer. She scrambled hastily backwards, still on the floor, looking up at the intruder.  
  
That would have been worth another scream.  
  
Tara, however, was so mentally exhausted that the fact that her new companion was seven feet tall, had horns, skin the color of coal that looked like it would stop a bullet, and was festooned with large metal rings, spikes, and chitinous plates, really didn't faze her. And absurdly enough, he was drinking a Slurpee. Hell - she hardly even noticed, really.  
  
The first thing she did notice was his aura. It was quite strong, bespeaking an individual with a fair amount of power. It emanated from him in waves. The power in her blood sang in response, harmonizing with something it recognized as being of the same origin.  
  
Stranger, though, was the color. The demon's aura was a warm blue, shot through with streaks of shining gold. Oddly enough, Tara felt safe around him. This being was a servant of the Light.  
  
"Compared to w-what? I'm s-supposed to be d-dead!"  
  
"Well, there is that."  
  
"S-So - why aren't I?"  
  
"Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but - you are."  
  
Tara blinked. Twice. "Huh?"  
  
"Yep. You got shot through the heart. You are deceased, killed, and pretty damn dead." He took a quiet sip from his frozen beverage.  
  
"Oh." Tara's eyes were wide. "W-Wow. T-Then... is t-this...?"  
  
"Heaven?" He laughed. "Kinda getting ahead of yourself , aren't you?"  
  
Tara blushed. "W-Well, I-I thought... if im dead... sh-shouldn't I... go... somewhere?"  
  
"Where do you think you are?"  
  
Tara slowly began to stand as she really noticed her surroundings for the first time. She turned slowly as she rose, eyes wide.  
  
The space was huge, almost oppressively so. The floor was pale marble. The walls... well, there were no walls. Infinite space extended around in every direction, fading into a black horizon. Above, no ceiling was visible - only implied by the hundreds of giant columns, evenly spaced, a perfect pattern of immense stone pillars as far as Tara's eye could see. A soft white light seemed to exude from the surfaces of the columns, bathing the place with cool illumination.  
  
"Goddess..." Tara breathed. "So, if... if t-this isn't H-Heaven, b-but I am d-dead, then...?"  
  
"Hell? No, that's a few floors down."  
  
"W-What, then?"  
  
"It's probably best to think of it as... an antechamber. A waiting room for the afterlife."  
  
"Purgatory?"  
  
"Only if you're Catholic."  
  
"Uh-huh." She turned again, craning her neck. "So if t-this is a... waiting room, w-where is everyone?"  
  
"Why would there be anyone else?"  
  
Tara turned to face her host, and gave a little start. "N-Nice nose ring."  
  
"Thanks!" The massive, armored form raised a hand to one of the many metallic ornamentations. "Just got it last week. There's a place a few levels up. Really quality work."  
  
Tara lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"What?"  
  
"W-Where IS everyone? W-Why is there no-one here? A-And who are you?"  
  
He sighed. "First things first. I'm Skip."  
  
"Skip?"  
  
"Skip."  
  
The eyebrow went up again.  
  
"Skip?"  
  
"Yes, Skip. Now, do you want me to answer your questions or not?"  
  
"S-Sorry. Please - continue."  
  
"Anyway. Well, this place doesn't get used mutch."  
  
"B-But, th-thousands of p-people die every minute, all over the world!"  
  
"True. But most people are pretty clear cut. They die, are judged, and go to their final reward. It's all done with computers, nowadays. Very efficient."  
  
Tara paled and began nervously smoothing her skirts. "S-So y-your s-saying that... m-my s-s-soul is in question?"  
  
"No, my dear. You... are a special case."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Well, the short version is, you have unfinished business. You weren't supposed to die yet."  
  
Tara stopped. "Now I'm confused."  
  
"I know. Sorry, but you got involved in something a lot bigger than yourself."  
  
Tara turned away, casting her eyes downward. For a moment she was silent. Then she looked up at the ceiling, invisible behind the swirling mists. When she spoke, the pain in her voice was evident.  
  
"W-Why me? I'm not s-special. I-I'm just - me. B-Buffy is s-special. W-W- W..." Her voice broke. "Willow is s-special. T-They have power, and d- destiny, and... all that stuff."  
  
"And you don't?"  
  
Tara rounded on him. Her hair spun. Her eyes flashed.  
  
"Buffy is the Slayer, for Goddess sake! And W-Willow is such a powerful witch that... well, she's scary! I l-love her more than anything in this world, b-but she scares the hell out of me. When she was going to Rack, she was s-so close to falling i-into... " She lost her momentum. Her voice faltered. "I hope she's careful."  
  
Skip's words were gentle. "There is darkness in her, Tara, as there is in all of us. The Hellmouth isn't just about vampires and beasties. It is a doorway to a dimension of evil, and evil flows through it and surrounds it. Willow Rosenberg has great power, a kind heart and noble spirit. She uses her gift meaning to do good - but she went too far, too fast. She's in over her head. Through her, it has worked great evil."  
  
He took another long slurp from his frozen confectionary.  
  
Tara's mind clicked at something he said. Willow had done some things with her magic that she wasn't proud of - she knew this. But that was in the past. So why speak of it in the present tense?  
  
"I-Is? Has? What's happening?"  
  
Suddenly, an image came unbidden to her, with great clarity. The last thing she saw as her brain started to die, starved of blood that her damaged heart could no longer pump... her lovers face, bending over her near lifeless body, face streaked with tears, blood, and a wild determination. Her eyes were burning pools of eldritch fire as she wept Tara's name.  
  
Tara gasped, a sharp breath.  
  
"Your death will not be unavenged. I'm sorry."  
  
Tara swallowed numbly.  
  
"What did she do?" Her voice was soft.  
  
Skip's expression was impassive. "Something rash. But, that's really something we shouldn't go into right now."  
  
"Why not? I'm the reason it happened! It's m-my damned fault! I-I was the one who p-pushed her away w-when she n-needed me m-most..."  
  
Skip came forward a step. His voice rose to match Tara's.  
  
"Look, you want to know why you died?"  
  
"Enlighten me."  
  
"Because of the war."  
  
"What war?"  
  
"The only war. The only one that matters, anyway."  
  
Tara deflated, her ire spent.  
  
"B-Between w-who?"  
  
Skip turned and began to walk. He motioned for her to follow.  
  
"Between the Bright Powers and the Ruinous Ones. It's a war neither of Them can afford to lose."  
  
They walked for a moment, in silence. Then Tara spoke again.  
  
"How long?"  
  
"How long has what?"  
  
"The war."  
  
"Oh." He paused. "Always has been."  
  
"And always will be?"  
  
"No." He paused again. "It's going to end."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Soon."  
  
"Oh." Tara reflected for a moment.  
  
"So w-why did I die?"  
  
"It's quite simple, really. Your motley crew in Sunnydale has a very important role in the End of Days. So, you are an obvious target."  
  
"B-But why ME? W-Why not B-Buffy or Willow? They are m-much more p-powerful than me."  
  
Skip gave her a sideways glance. "Don't be too sure."  
  
Tara glared back at him.  
  
"The forces of evil rarely do things the clean, easy way. By their very nature, they like to leave jagged edges, gaping wounds and a big, bloody mess. They go for pain."  
  
"Still, what does it have to do with me?"  
  
"Patience, young padawan. There's plenty of time."  
  
"Don't Obi-wan me, buster. I'm dead. I'm n-not in the mood."  
  
Skip smirked. "As I was saying. Your Slayer friend broke the rules. Traditionally, the Slayer's only ally has always been her Watcher. She operates alone and isolated from the rest of the world. This has always been the Slayer's weakness. But Buffy... well, yeah. She has proven to be an extraordinarily hard target."  
  
Tara was quiet for a moment. Then she shrugged her assent.  
  
"And Willow. No creature of darkness with any inkling of self-preservation is going after a human who's a walking magical singularity, no matter how tasty she looks!"  
  
Tara was silent. A light breeze ruffled her skirt and tossed her hair. She gazed off into the black horizon.  
  
"That, my dear, is where you come in. You are the only one of that bunch with her head on straight. You're the rock the others lean on. You are, after a fashion, the weakest link."  
  
"That's not v-very nice."  
  
"Not in the TV show kinda way. More in a 'if this one goes, the rest go' kinda way."  
  
"S-So th-through me, my friends are vulnerable?"  
  
"Not just your friends. The whole world."  
  
Tara shuddered, recalling Willows wild eyes.  
  
"Thanks for that."  
  
"Oh, we're not done yet." He grinned toothily.  
  
Again with the glare.  
  
"So, w-why am I here and not" -she gestured her hands about- "wherever?"  
  
"Ah. The important stuff."  
  
"Damn straight, mister."  
  
"Well, like I said, it's all about the war. They cheated, you see. You were previously designated as a noncombatant."  
  
"But here I am."  
  
"Right. There are... rules that have to be followed."  
  
Tara frowned. "In my experience, the Forces of Naughtiness don't care too much for rules."  
  
Skip smiled again. "Not in this particular case. When this whole thing started, back in the depths of time, both sides swore mighty oaths regarding the conduct of the war - ones that neither dare to break."  
  
"But... if these can't be broken, then how'd they do it?"  
  
"I never said 'couldn't'. But there are consequences."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"In this case, a boon for the opposing side."  
  
"Wait. You said I was a noncombatant. So I was like, off limits?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But innocents die all the time in Sunnydale!"  
  
"There's a difference between bystanders and noncom's. It's semantic."  
  
Tara put her hands on her hips. Skip raised an eyebrow at her nonverbal challenge.  
  
"A bystander is defined as one of the rank-and-file humans who aren't aware of the war. A noncombatant is someone who is engaged in direct assistance to a designated Champion."  
  
Tara threw her arms up and made an exasperated noise. Skip was nonplussed.  
  
"This is all just... nuts."  
  
"Well, here. Let me put it this way. It's like... this Slurpee." He held up the beverage in question.  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Stay with me now. Now, what makes a Slurpee so tasty?"  
  
Tara looked at the seven foot demon like he was mad. "Uh... the syrup?"  
  
Skip looked pleased. "Exactly. Now, way back in the Beginning, when this whole mess started, each side was allotted a certain amount of... syrup, with which to fight the war. The basic idea being either a small, super kickass Slurpee, or large amounts of rather tasteless soda water. Well, the evildoers chose quantity over quality, figuring in with weight of numbers. The good guys, however, went the other route, laying the burden on the shoulders of one girl each generation."  
  
"The Slayer."  
  
"When one dies, the next is called. Darkness is drawn to her, and therefore away from everyone else. There is only one, and her list of allies is thin... but nevertheless, she is equal to the task at hand."  
  
"So that's why we've always been outnumbered? The Powers That Be are stingy bastards?"  
  
"Think of it as frugal. Planning for the future." Skip contemplated his Slurpee and took another drink.  
  
"I fail to see how this Slurpee analogy makes it any less... nuts."  
  
"It's an oversimplification, I guess. But here's the gist of it: we've been saving up syrup."  
  
"Once again... huh?"  
  
"For the End Times, you see. So that when the going gets rough, we put more players on the field."  
  
"Like Angel? And -" her brow knotted in displeasure- "F-Faith?"  
  
Skip nodded. "Well, Faith was a little touch-and-go for a while, but she's recovering... but you've got the gist of it. The Champions of the Powers That Be - which, now, includes you."  
  
Tara blanched. She stopped and held a hand up in between them, backing up a step. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Y-You just said 'you', as in 'me' you. Where'd that come from?"  
  
Then, more quietly, she said: "Is - Is that what this power inside me is?"  
  
Skip shook his head slightly. "No. That's all you."  
  
Tara spoke sharply. "C-Can't be. I've n-never felt anything like this. It's... It's so s-strong, and... terrible... but... Good."  
  
Skip spoke with wisdom. "But it is you, Tara," he said gently. "Or, rather, what you were meant to be, had you not grown up on the Hellmouth. Its energy has clouded your own for your whole life. Here, in this place, things appear as they were meant to be."  
  
Tara looked down at her clothes. "I guess it's no coincidence that i'm a skirt girl, then."  
  
"It looks good on you."  
  
"Thanks," she said listlessly. "So, I'm destined to do this? I don't have a choice?"  
  
"Oh, you always have a choice. We're all about free will."  
  
"So, my choices are... to stay dead, or to go back to Earth as...?"  
  
"One of the Champions."  
  
"Right." She laughed softly. "That's a laugh riot."  
  
"So what'll it be?"  
  
A disturbing thought occurred to her. "Wait - why are you telling me all this? It sounds like real 'secrets of the universe' type stuff."  
  
"It is. But don't worry. You won't remember any of it."  
  
"I barely remember anything as it is... everything is all jumbley inside my head."  
  
"It's for the best. Trust me."  
  
Tara pressed her hands together. She was still uncertain about so many things...  
  
"Uh, well, what does this Champion thing really mean? I mean, for me? What will happen to make me... Championy?"  
  
Skip made a face. Tara saw he was scraping the bottom of his Slurpee.  
  
"Can't say for sure. For the Slayer, it's strength, speed, and fighting ability, while Angel has the whole vampire thing going. It's different for each."  
  
Tara sighed softly. "I don't suppose I'd be going back to Sunnydale."  
  
"Mmm - no. That would just be... complicated."  
  
"Heh. I guess you're right. Where, then?"  
  
"Somewhere out of the way, probably, where you wouldn't be noticed, until the proper time."  
  
He led her around one of the huge columns they had been walking between. There, she saw a huge pool of glassy, still water set in the floor, like an ancient Roman bath. Not a ripple disturbed its surface. The soft illumination reflected perfectly from its surface, except that instead of a forest of giant stone colonnades, she saw...  
  
"Wow. Is this...?"  
  
"Earth. All of it, in real time."  
  
An image of the world floated in the pool, rendered in unbelievable clarity. Tara had seen pictures of the Earth from space, but even the highest quality photograph couldn't prepare her for this. North America and Europe could be seen in the same glance; clouds were floating in the stratosphere, casting swirling shadows. But to her, the most incredible thing was that the harder you looked, the more you saw.  
  
Tara shaded her eyes with a hand - more out of reflex than anything - and focused to infinity. She gasped when she percieved bustling cities, ships, and trains - and then people, individual human beings, walking and talking, conducting their daily business, oblivious to the observers from high, high above.  
  
"This is unreal..." Tara breathed, casting her gaze from one end of the Earth to the other. Naturally, she turned towards Sunnydale - but when her eyes fell upon it, the city was shrouded beneath a dark cloud.  
  
"Why can't I see Sunnydale?"  
  
"Dark forces are at work. That area is... contested."  
  
"Willow?"  
  
He nodded grimly.  
  
Tara bit her lip. A tear formed in the corner of her eye as her vision scoured the land. She saw so much pain... so much death... so much evil... yet so much good.  
  
In England, she saw a young magic-user and his friends struggle against the rise of a dark wizard.  
  
In Colorado, she saw the military desperately fighting off an alien invasion through a dimensional wormhole.  
  
In the City of Angels, she saw a vampire and a seer locked in a one sided war to save the souls of innocents from the rising tide of darkness.  
  
In the Orient, she saw ancient clans of martial artists gearing up for war... but against whom, and as whos ally, she could not be certain.  
  
At what price, peace? What remains to be said, when sun is gone and moon is dead?  
  
Tara drew a deep inward breath.  
  
"I'll do it."  
  
Skip nodded. "Very well."  
  
At once, a calm settled over her, the cold certainty that comes after an important decision, like the eye of a hurricane. Winds of change, time, and fate blew about her, but she was not bent.  
  
"You must take the Oath."  
  
"What oath? I don't remember anyone mentioning an oath."  
  
But as she spoke, words came to her, an incantation of terrible power. The magic in her blood began to hum. Tara pronounced the words that were whispered into her mind.  
  
"As Life proceeds, and as Life begets, my Life is bound to the Power of Light. I shall be an instrument of mercy and peace, and a harbinger of righteous wrath. My burden is that of a guardian, of ceaseless protection and vigilance for the innocent. I will be valiant and true to the cause of Light, from now, and always, until the End of Days."  
  
As she spoke, a soft white light began to glow about her. A column of incandescent light poured from the high space above her, warming her face and skin. Tara felt the words inside, inscribing themselves to her being as they were spoken. The Oath she took was etched on her soul.  
  
Skip stepped forward. "Is this your will?"  
  
"It is my will."  
  
"Is it your choice?"  
  
"It is my choice."  
  
"Is it your fate?"  
  
"It is my fate, and I am bound to it as if with chains of steel."  
  
"So mote it be."  
  
The light grew more intense, until Tara was surrounded by brilliance. She faced upward into it. Skip watched her disappear in the shining beam. When the light faded, she was gone.  
  
Skip spooned the last bit of Slurpee out of his cup. He looked down into the pool and smiled.  
  
"She'll do."  
  
--End chapter 1--  
  
I'd also like to note that the Slurpee brand is a registered trademark of Seven-Eleven Corporation - no infringement is intended or implied, rather this is merely an impassioned plea to locate their product in upstate New York! 


	2. Away from the Sun

A/N: Well, I finally get around to posting Chapter 2. Here's where the crossover starts. Bear with me for a while, okay? I know the Roswell milieu isn't the most exciting, but... I'm working on stuff. And peterv, thanks for the review... and no, i didn't see the last bit of Angel Season 4. Assune that eith SKip isn't oen of the baddies, or at this point (still end of Season 6 for BtVS), he hasn't had cause to reveal himself yet. Later, and PLEASE review! Every little bit helps! This means you.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A red, bloated sun hung in the midsummer sky over the New Mexico desert. Merciless rays beat down on the sand and sage. A hot, dry wind blew out of the south, carrying stinging sand into Max Evans eyes. He squinted and shaded his eyes with a hand, staring hard to the south.  
  
Next to him in the classic convertible, his friend Liz squeaked and grabbed the wheel.  
  
"What's wrong with you?!? Pay attention to the road!"  
  
Max was inattentive. Liz continued to steer from the passenger seat while he searched the southern horizon.  
  
"Something's out there, Liz. I saw it... and felt it."  
  
"That's great, Max, but let's talk about it when the car is stopped, ok?"  
  
The black-haired teen wordlessly applied the brakes and steered to the side of the road. Shifting the trasmission to park, he hopped out of the car and started walking across the road, towards the open desert to the south. Liz opened her door and ran out after him.  
  
"What did you see?" She said breathlessly.  
  
"Not sure. It was... bright. It's out there, somewhere."  
  
"Was it a plane?"  
  
"No."  
  
Liz lowered her voice. "Was it... an alien?"  
  
"I'm not sure, remember?"  
  
Liz sighed. She leaned her head on Max's shoulder.  
  
"I know you're anxious to find out about your son, but Tess just left a few weeks ago. He most likely hasn't even been born yet."  
  
Max continued to stare wordlessly, but Liz could sense his silent consent.  
  
He turned back to the car. "Let's go look."  
  
Liz followed after him and got into the car. "Sorry, but this isn't the jeep."  
  
"Doesn't matter." He gunned the engine and swung the car onto a small dirt road, tires throwing up clouds of dirt and rocks.  
  
Liz gripped the door tightly as the convertible bounced across the rough terrain. Max dodged the larger potholes, but was still maintaining a speed that Liz was sure was less than safe.  
  
In the three weeks since Tess' betrayal and departure, her relationship with Max had begun to change. They had both been pushing away over the last year, but for different reasons. She knew Max didn't accept his destiny with Tess. She didn't blame him - being told you are genetically predestined to be with someone really puts a damper on free will. She still had loved him, though... with a passion and power she hadn't thought possible. But, she reflected, she was always the responsible one... always the dutiful daughter. Who was she to interfere in the affairs of these beings? Max, the man she loved, and who returned her love, was a reincarnated alien king! Liz was a plain human from Roswell. No cosmic destiny there. Yet she kept being swept up in this alien insanity... extraterrestrial love triangles, alien babies, invasions... and Liz was square in the middle, with Max, Michael, Maria, and Isabel. Three years ago, when she caught a bullet in the diner, she had died... and Max revived her. Brought her back. And not with CPR. She hadn't realized then what the consequences would be. Neither, Liz thought, did Max.  
  
Liz Parker was a straight-A student who was naturally driven and curious about things she didn't understand. Well, she sure as hell didn't understand how someone could heal a bullet wound with the laying of hands!  
  
Max had told her. He brought her into the secret that him, his sister, anh their best friend had guarded with their lives for years. Because he loved her too much to let her die. He loved her too much to lie.  
  
None of them could have guessed the consequences... the price they would all pay, the pain they would all share.  
  
Because of a moment of weakness.  
  
Liz stole a sideways glance at Max. His black hair snapped in the breeze. He drove with the singleminded intensity that he did everything else. Max, Liz mused, never did anything half-assed. It was either all the way - or not at all. Did he think it was a mistake? In hindsight, healing her had been dangerous... extremely risky and foolish. It had led to investigation, coverup, and discovery... the only reason he wasn't still in that white room was that Nasedo had killed or discredited everyone in the Special Unit.  
  
And Alex died.  
  
Liz felt the familiar lurch in her stomach when she thought about her friend. Dead at the hands of the woman who carried Maxs' child.  
  
That, perhaps, was the greatest toll.  
  
It wasn't even a noble death. Tess had warped his mind with her powers until something gave. Then she had psychically coerced Kyle, who had taken her into his home and loved her like a sister, into stuffing the body into a car, which she ran into a semi at seventy miles an hour. Tess deserved whatever she got.  
  
As long as it was a fiery death.  
  
Liz' breath whooshed out of her lungs after Max hit a particularly fierce pothole. Her thoughts returned to the present. The barren New Mexico desert rushed by, mile after mile of sand and sky. The late afternoon sun hung low over the horizon, casting an eerie glow over the flat, rocky desert. The rocks and sand shone a deep red.  
  
Except for one that was yellow.  
  
"Max? What's that?" Liz grabbed his arm and pointed. Max looked off to the right. His eyes narrowed. About thirty yards off the road, he saw...  
  
The car skidded to a halt on the side of the road. Liz gave a little eep when her seatbelt dug into her shoulders. Max jumped out of the car. Liz unfastened her seatbelt and opened the door. Max was already running.  
  
"Grab the first aid kit!"  
  
Liz opened the trunk and dug out the small, red plastic box. Glancing up at the sky, she saw that the sun was setting. The desert would be cooling off rapidly soon. She also grabbed a blanket that Max kept in the trunk, and ran after him.  
  
"What the f...?"  
  
A woman, blond, in her early twenties, crumpled in a heap on the sandy ground. The sun made her hair shine with an internal light. She was very pretty, in a matronly sort of way - tall and solidly built. She looked as if she had never seen a moment of physical violence... except for a round, pink scar in the center of her chest. Wait. Her chest?  
  
Liz did a double take. The woman lying on the ground was very, very naked.  
  
Max was kneeling beside her, clasping her wrist with two fingers. He was looking at the watch on his other hand. Liz ran up and dropped to her knees. She shook out the blanket and draped it over the womans still form.  
  
"Her pulse is strong, about seventy-five or so."  
  
"Is she hurt?"  
  
Max shook his head. "Doesn't look like it. She's not bleeding or bruised, and there's no sign of a head wound."  
  
"You think she was... bit by something?"  
  
"Sure. And it took her clothes." He half-smiled at her.  
  
Liz made a face. "No, Max.... that's a seperate problem entirely."  
  
"Well, she looks to be perfectly healthy... except for that scar. Like she is just... sleeping."  
  
"So we wake her up." Liz opened the first aid kit and retrieved a bottle of smelling salts.  
  
"Where'd that come from? I don't remember that coming in the kit."  
  
"Maria's a wimp. Helps to be prepared."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Liz opened the bottle and waved it under the girls nose.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
"Huh. Uh."  
  
"Ma'am?" Max shook her shoulders gently. She didn't stir.  
  
"So she's a deep sleeper?" Liz supplied.  
  
"No... I'm not sure. We need to get her to a hospital."  
  
"Max? That might not be the best idea. What if she's. well, not like me, or even like you? Doctors on this planet usually specialize in homo sapiens. We found her lying in the middle of the desert! And, the only reason we even came out here is because you felt something! Doesn't that kind of imply that something is not with the normal?"  
  
"She's human. I'm sure of it."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I just do. It's. one of those things. Liz, she's hurt and needs medical attention - more than we can give her."  
  
"Well, can't you just... you know... heal her?"  
  
He looked at her. "I don't even know what's wrong with her. And we don't know who she is... we can't risk the exposure."  
  
Liz sighed. "So hospital it is, then." She fished her cell phone out of a pocket and dialed 911. A few seconds passed, and then she frowned and looked at the phone.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"No signal. Guess there's no cavalry."  
  
"We'll have to move her, then."  
  
Liz pursed her lips together and absently tucked her hair behind and ear.  
  
"She looks to be stable. No obvious broken bones, swelling, or signs of head, neck, or spinal injuries. Can't rule out internal bleeding or contusions. but again, there's no sign of trauma."  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
She paused.  
  
"Let's move her."  
  
* * *  
  
The black convertible roared up 285 South towards Roswell, New Mexico. Max was behind the wheel, while Liz was in the back seat with the mysterious girl's head in her lap. She was wrapped in the dark gray blanket. Her long blonde hair snapped and curled as the wind caught it. Max glanced back from the drivers seat.  
  
"How's she doing?"  
  
"I can't really tell - she's still sleeping. That could be good or bad, I guess."  
  
"Sleeping or unconscious?"  
  
"Hard to tell. I'm not a doctor."  
  
"You're closer to one than me. Keep a close eye on her."  
  
Liz nodded and returned her attention to the girl in her care. There was something about her... something she couldn't quite put a finger on.  
  
Besides dropping out of the sky stark naked in the middle of the desert.  
  
Liz gently brushed some loose strands of blonde hair out of the girls face. She really was quite pretty... and looked so peaceful, as if great weight had been lifted from her shoulders for the first time in a long while. Her mouth was curved into a gentle smile. The coarse gray blanket was wrapped around her tall frame, leaving only her face exposed.  
  
Then she opened her eyes and looked directly at Liz.  
  
Liz screamed and pulled her hands away. The girl's eyes opened wide and she drew a sharp breath, violently thrashing as she tried to free herself.  
  
Max's head snapped around to look backward. The car swerved in the lane.  
  
"Liz! What's wrong?"  
  
And abruptly as it started, the girl went limp. Her eyes rolled into her head and closed.  
  
"Max! Oh god, she woke up. She looked at me..."  
  
"Is she okay? Are YOU okay?"  
  
Liz put a hand to her thudding heart and took several deep breaths. Then she placed her fingers on the girls throat.  
  
"Her heart is beating. I-I'm not sure what happened... we need to get her to the hospital quick."  
  
"We'll be there in about five minutes. Will she be okay until then?"  
  
Liz straightened her hair behind an ear.  
  
"I'm really not sure. Max, that kinda looked like a seizure..."  
  
"Three minutes, then." He downshifted and accelerated. The convertibles engine roared in response, and they sped down the highway towards Roswell.  
  
Two and a half minutes later, they swung into the emergency lot at Roswell General. Max shut off the engine, set the brake, and leapt out of the vehicle in one smooth motion. He gathered the unconscious girl up in his arms and carried her towards the entrance of the hospital while Liz clambered out and followed close behind.  
  
A large black boot crashed open the doors to the Roswell Emergency Clinic. The on duty nurse looked up, a shocked expression on her face as a young man with dark hair came in, carrying an unconscious young woman wrapped in a blanket. The nurses expression became one of concern as she came around the desk, pulling a bed up to them.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I don't know. We found her like this," The dark haired teen replied.  
  
They laid her still form down gently on the hospital gurney.  
  
"Doctor, I need some help over here!"  
  
An older man in scrubs came at the nurses call. Seeing the womans prostrate form, he immediately started checking vital signs.  
  
"What happened?" The doctor directed his questioning at Max.  
  
"I'm not sure, sir. We found her like this."  
  
"Found her? Where?" He turned quickly to the nurse. "Jen, get paperwork started."  
  
"Yes, Doctor."  
  
The doctor turned back and began to wheel the bed towards a room. He motioned for Max to follow. Max heard the door open behind him and glanced back to see Liz' slim form enter. He followed after the doctor.  
  
"So where did you find her?"  
  
"In the desert west of 285 South, about ten miles south of town."  
  
"So you don't know her?"  
  
"No, sir." Max felt Liz' comforting presence come up behind him. He reached back for her hand. The doctor parked the bed in a small room just down the hall.  
  
"We'll have to notify the sheriff, then. She seems to be healthy... where are her personal effects?"  
  
Max shook his head. "We found her just like that... without the blanket."  
  
The doctor pursed his lips.  
  
"We can't treat her if she has no insurance."  
  
Liz came forward.  
  
"You what?"  
  
The doctor spread his arms helplessly. "I'm sorry, but it's the hospitals policy to withhold treatment until payment is secured, unless the patient requires immediate care."  
  
Liz was mad. In fact, she was rather pissed. She pulled her hand free from Max and gripped the rail on the side of the bed. Her eyes narrowed when she spoke.  
  
"That's ridiculous! How can you turn away a helpless girl?"  
  
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but it's the rule. It protects the hospital and the patient by keeping costs down - things still have to be paid for, whether they were given in charity or not. Now, I suggest you wait in the lobby for the Sheriff."  
  
Exasperated, Liz pulled out her wallet and withdrew a small blue card. She thrust it at the doctor as she dragged Max from the room.  
  
"Liz?"  
  
"What, Max?"  
  
"Why did you just give him your insurance?"  
  
She stopped and turned, glaring up at his greater height.  
  
"Why did you give the door the commando boot?"  
  
Max started to answer, then stopped when he realized what she had said. Liz smiled sweetly.  
  
"Something less dramatic would have worked fine, you know."  
  
"Well, I - "  
  
"Royalty. Always making a show of things."  
  
He shrugged as they sat down.  
  
"So why did you give him your insurance?"  
  
Liz shook her head, her long, dark hair flowing over her shoulders.  
  
"I'm not sure. I'm really mad about this crazy rule they have, and she was just... I don't know. It seemed like the right thing to do."  
  
"Will your parents agree?"  
  
She sighed. "I hope so."  
  
They sat in silence. Once again, her hand found his. Max squeezed her palm comfortingly. Liz, slouched back in her chair, smiled a long, lazy smile and snuggled up against Max's shoulder. Liz liked this... it made her feel whole. Max loved her with an intensity she had never experienced. He may be the king of an alien empire, but that was another life... this was here. This was now. This was real.  
  
"What do you think her name is?"  
  
"I don't know," Max replied.  
  
"Well, guess."  
  
He smiled and put his arm around her shoulder. pulling her closer to him. He squeezed her hand when he replied.  
  
"Well, I don't think it's Joan."  
  
Liz giggled and hit him on the chest.  
  
"Max!"  
  
"She doesn't look like a Joan," Max said defensively.  
  
"So what does a Joan look like?"  
  
"You know. Short, dark hair, always cranky."  
  
Liz swatted him again. "I've got to go call my parents, let them know about the insurance fraud I'm commiting." She stood and reached into her pocket for her cell phone. "I'll be outside."  
  
As Max watched Liz go, a torrent of conflicting thoughts and emotions filled his head that made his stomach uneasy. He didn't understand why she always made him feel like this. He loved her. That was simple. How incredibly complicated that his life had become since he saved her... that wasn't. He was torn - torn between his life's love and his life's work... and amazingly, Liz understood that. She tried to help him by taking the matter into her own hands. Her stunt with Kyle... well, he still wasn't sure exactly what had happened, and the memory of her naked body in bed with Kyle still turned his stomach.  
  
That had led to his relationship with Tess. The conception of his son. And Alex' death.  
  
His responsibility, his guilt, in the matter was clear. He had failed to see the threat that Tess presented, had been blinded by her golden hair and seductive curves, while his friends and family were drowning around him. The fault was his. It must never be allowed to happen again.  
  
A tinkle of bells broke his reverie. Max looked up to see Liz enter, her lips pursed into a line. Her fine black hair hung like silk over her white shoulders, framing her delicate features in a dark halo. Max could tell she wasn't happy.  
  
"How'd they take it?"  
  
"Less than well." Liz sat heavily next to Max and put her head in her hands, rubbing her temples.  
  
"It was a good thing to do."  
  
"But not a cheap one. Dad is really, really pissed."  
  
"I could understand why."  
  
"Well, I couldn't just leave her! What was I supposed to do?"  
  
"Don't worry. Everything will work out."  
  
Liz sighed. "I hope so."  
  
At that, the door opened again. Max and Liz looked up to see the deputy sherriff enter. The tall, dark Indian approached them.  
  
"Parker. Evans."  
  
"Evening, sir." Liz greeted him.  
  
"So what's this I hear about you two causing trouble?" He folded his arms fixed the teenagers with a withering stare.  
  
"No trouble, deputy. Just trying to help -"  
  
The deputy cut Max off. "After all that business with Valenti, I'dve hoped you'd learned some sense."  
  
"But we had nothing to do with that!" Liz protested.  
  
The deputies glare fixed on her. "Costin' the man his job an' the respect of the community, you could at least have a bit of shame."  
  
Max sensed Liz' temper flare. He saw her eyes narrow, felt her pulse quicken and her breath sharpen. He placed a hand on the small of her back, where he knew she liked to be touched, and reassured her.  
  
"We don't mean any trouble, deputy. We just found the girl."  
  
"Yeah, I hear you did. An' you say you don't know her?"  
  
"No, we don't."  
  
"Right." He took a pad from his back pocket and opened it. "Where'd you find her?"  
  
Liz kept up her silent glower. Max spoke.  
  
"A ways off of 285 South, about twenty miles south of town. There was a small dirt road near there. I don't know the name."  
  
The deputy made notes on his pad. "Describe the scene."  
  
"Lots of rocks and sand. Nothing else."  
  
"Nothin?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"At all?"  
  
"At all."  
  
"That's funny." The deputy closed his pad. "Well, I'm gonna go see this girl. Don't you go nowhere."  
  
"We won't."  
  
The lawman disappeared into the emergency room. Liz promptly smacked Max on the shoulder.  
  
"Why didn't you let ME talk to him?"  
  
"Liz, he already doesn't like us. You don't need to give him any more reasons."  
  
Liz made a face. Max decided to change the subject.  
  
"What did your parents say, exactly?"  
  
Liz sighed. " Well, there was some stuff about responsibility, and money, and not being stupid. And they're coming up here to see her."  
  
"When?"  
  
She checked her watch. "About 5 minutes."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah." She took his hand and stood. "Well, we should at least go see how she's doing."  
  
***  
  
The duty physician examined the bloodwork results he had just received. Nothing seemed unusual... red and white counts were normal, chemistry was normal for a woman in her early twenties. The toxicology report showed no foreign substances. Nothing seemed to indicate that she had been found unconscious and naked in the middle of the New Mexico desert.  
  
The doctor shrugged and opened a Jane Doe file. He'd go drop the charts off and see this mystery woman for himself. After all, Roswell was a fairly small and sleepy town, despite the alien hubbub, and a comatose teen found in the desert wasn't something that happened very day.  
  
The doctor picked up Jane Doe's file and went down the hall to the emergency ward. He was not expecting to find two other teens and a deputy sheriff arguing in her room.  
  
"Evans, you forgot to tell me something real important."  
  
"Whats that, sir?"  
  
"She's naked."  
  
The dark-haired teens face was impassive. "Why's that important?"  
  
A dark cloud seemed to roll over the deputies features. "Cause I wouldn't want to think that there was anything... improper goin' on."  
  
The black-haired girl spoke up. "Are you trying to accuse us of something? Cause if you are, why don't you just come out and say it!"  
  
"Why is this girl unconscious? Have ya'll been takin' any drugs?"  
  
To the doctor, it looked like the slim girl was about to hit the lawman. He decided it would be a good time to intervene.  
  
"She's clean, officer. Nothing showed up on the blood test. I don't even think she drinks soda."  
  
His expression was dark. "Be that as it may... somethin's funny about all this. I hope you're right, doc. I wouldn't want these kids to get in any trouble."  
  
The dark haired girl got the glint of violence in her eye as the sheriff left. The other teen placed his hand on her hip, and she relaxed a bit.  
  
The doctor extended his hand. "I'm Doctor Monroe."  
  
The tall, serious looking teen shook it. "Max Evans. And this is Liz Parker." He indicated the girl next to him, who was still looking a bit put out by the sheriff.  
  
Monroe crossed to the bed where the sleeping woman lay. The soft beep of a heart monitor kept rhythm with her pulse. He quickly glanced over her vitals, then sat down next to the bed. She looked so peaceful, he thought... or as peaceful as one could look hooked up to an IV and cardiac monitoring system.  
  
The doctor considered the possibilities for a moment. Roswell was a small town, and he knew most of the families that lived there. This girl was not one of them. So, she wasn't local. Maybe an alien enthusiast that got lost in the desert? That was probably the most likely. Those crackpots did all kinds of dumb stuff.  
  
"Doctor?"  
  
Monroe shook off his reverie and looked up at the two teens, who wehe still in the room. The girl - Liz - was asking him something. "Yes?"  
  
"Will she be alright?"  
  
He sighed. "Yes, I believe so. She's in excellent physical condition. Her immune system is working fine, and nothing turned up in her bloodwork. She's just... asleep."  
  
Liz bit her lip thoughtfully. Max spoke up.  
  
"What about that scar?"  
  
The doctor paused. "What scar?"  
  
Liz indicated a point on her upper chest, between her breasts. "Right here."  
  
Monroe rolled back the blanket that was draped over the woman to the top of her chest, exposing a round, pink scar right over her heart.  
  
"That's odd," the doctor mused. "This looks like..." He slid a hand under her back, feeling for something.  
  
Max stepped over to the bedside. "What? What do you think it is?"  
  
Doctor Monroe stepped back from her bed, took off his glasses, and cleaned the lens with his shirt.  
  
"Unless I am seriously mistaken, that's a bullet wound."  
  
"A bullet?!?" Liz' eyes opened wide. "But - that's right over her heart! How is she alive?"  
  
"Maybe it was deflected by a bone?" Max suggested.  
  
The doctor shook his head. "No... there's an entry wound on her back in about the same spot. I'd like to take some X-rays and MRI's... this is really odd, because these scars look like they've had several years to heal. But, it looks like the bullet travelled right through her heart. I'm really not sure how she's alive."  
  
"So is she in a... a coma, or something?" Liz asked.  
  
"No, she's not comatose. The EEG shows beta and delta brainwave activity that is indicative of normal sleep." The doctor indicated one of the monitors at the bedside. "But, there's really no way to tell when she'll wake up. The fact that she hasn't yet... well, it means something isn't right."  
  
Hurried footsteps rang out in the hallway, and the sound of muffled voices. Doctor Monroe looked up as an older man and woman entered the room. He noticed Liz take a small gulp. The man raised a finger and spoke in a quiet, terse voice.  
  
"Elizabeth. Outside. Now."  
  
"Dad, I -"  
  
"Now, Liz!"  
  
He squeezed her hand and let it go. Liz let out a defeated sigh. She looked at Max and gave him a tired smile. He squeezed her hand before letting her go. Liz' father, holding the door open for her, directed a withering stare at Max. It was apparent to the doctor that there was clearly no love lost between the two - or, at least, from the girls' father to her boyfriend. Liz walked primly towards the door, her head high.  
  
And then a monitor started to beep.  
  
The doctor spun, and everyone stopped and turned to the girl on the bed. Her eyelids fluttered, then snapped open, and she drew a deep, gasping breath.  
  
"My God," the doctor said incredulously. "She's awake." 


	3. On the Charity of Strangers

Hey everyone (or, the 4 people who have reviewed this so far...) It's been way too long since I posted, but there have been circumstances, I swear! Anyway, this is a short chapter, the next one is much longer. I really enjoyed writing the whole first-person POV thing... it was definitely a different way of approaching the character.  
  
Now, I know that Roswell isn't the most exciting or popular universe (given the number of crossovers I've seen with it here, its pretty damn far down the list), but bear with me please... things are moving slowly now, but they will pick up within a few chapters. Calm before the storm, and all that.  
  
All Buffy characters are property of Joss Whedon and 20th Cenury Fox. All the Roswell stuff belongs to Jason Katims. No copyright infringement implied or intended.  
  
On with the show!  
  
It was like coming up for air after a long swim. At first all I could see was darkness, and quiet, and this sensation like I was floating in water... and then I was rising upwards, towards a bright pinpoint of light overhead. The light grew brighter, and noises began to ring in my ears, where moments before there had been only peace. The noise got louder and clearer; the light was larger and brighter until it was all I could see as I rushed upwards. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the light became a clear, white patch overhead, and the noise resolved itself into the hum and click of machinery. I realized I could hear myself breathing.  
  
So why was that so unusual to me?  
  
My eyes flickered and I groaned. It was a lovely sound. Very dignified. I hope there wasn't around that I was trying to impress.  
  
Then...  
  
"She's awake."  
  
I was awake? Wow. Coulda fooled me. Not quite ready to admit that much yet.  
  
"Miss? Can you hear me?"  
  
Dammit. There's no fooling them. Well, up and at'em...  
  
"Ugh."  
  
Very articulate. I just love waking up from a coma.  
  
"Urgh... ah... urk!"  
  
"Well, let's give her a minute."  
  
Blinding spears of light burned my eyes every time I blinked. I turned my head to try and get away from it. I raised my hands to try and shield my eyes from the harsh light. It took a little longer than I expected. Guess I'm a little weak.  
  
Where am I?  
  
How long have I been out?  
  
These are things I really, really want to know.  
  
And who are these people standing around me? None of them feel familiar.  
  
My throat is really dry; Goddess, I could use some water. That's probably why I'm not too vocal.  
  
The bright flashes and hazy patches finally started to arrange themselves into things that make sense. Most everything is white; there are some pictures and stuff hanging on the walls. I'm lying in a bed, wearing a very flattering paper gown. There is a rack of gizmos and whatsits next to my bed, with leads and patches clipped on to my fingers, arms, and chest.  
  
Yep, it's a hospital.  
  
And the people... now that I can actually sorta see, I can probably figure out who they are. The older man is probably a doctor. The slim, pretty brunette with the rosy white aura went with the compassionate, idealistic mind I had felt earlier. I like her already.  
  
The guy standing next to her with the short black hair and intense expression - his aura was kinda wierd. I can't really place why it seemed that way... just one of those things, I guess.  
  
I blinked a few more times, and more people appeared. Two other adults were standing behind the girl... they must be her parents. Her father was angry in the way you can only get with family; that not-quite-red tinge to his aura simmering under conflicting emotions of love, fear, and pride.  
  
"Ma'am?" The doctor was trying to get my attention. Unfortunately, I really wasn't sure if I could talk. After a few moments, I was able to scratch out a response.  
  
"Thirsty..."  
  
"Here." He passed me a glass of water from the table, which I drained gratefully. Moving my arm was a supreme effort - it felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds.  
  
"Ma'am, if you're feeling up to it, there's some information I'd like to get."  
  
"Uh... sure. Like what?"  
  
"Well, first of all..." the doctor picked up a clipboard, " what's your name?"  
  
"It's..." I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came. Shocked, I tried again, but this most basic of facts eluded me. Oh no. Oh please, Goddess, no.  
  
I squeezed my eyes shut and desperately cast my thoughts inward. I pictured the long, dark halls of memory, stacked high with images and sounds, recollections of past events. But the shelves at the back, in the deepest part of my mind, were empty.  
  
Oh, shit.  
  
This is really, really not cool.  
  
How could my identity just be... gone? I still remembered all kinds of things - I could tell you who the President was, the capitals of all fifty states, the proper ratio of belladonna to saint johns' wort in a scrying spell... but no clue as to my own friggin name!  
  
I shook off my reverie and realized all these people were still looking at me expectantly. A tear welled up in my eyes.  
  
"I don't know," I whispered.  
  
I could feel their shock, sympathy, and pity. The black-haired girl in particular felt a sense of pain and loss so strong... she was a rare person, to feel so strongly for others.  
  
Then I realized what I was doing - spying on others feelings! Mortified, I closed off my mind to them, and the bright auras faded to pale shadows.  
  
The doctor spoke. "You... don't remember your name?"  
  
I shook my head no. The tears were threatening behind my eyes again. I blinked them back. I had to be strong, for myself and for these strangers who showed so much love and concern.  
  
Strong like an Amazon.  
  
"Do you remember anything else?" The doctor said gently.  
  
"Sure... I know lots of stuff. Just nothing about me." My voice was a little more bitter than I thought it would be. Being stoic is hard.  
  
The doctor sat down in a chair by the bed and took off his glasses, cleaning them with a handkerchief. The motion was strangely familiar to me. Goddess, this was frustrating!  
  
"Well, do you know where we are?"  
  
I thought for a second... nope. I shook my head.  
  
"Okay. I believe some introductions are in order as well. I'm Doctor Elliot Monroe. This is Jeff and Amanda Parker, and their daughter Liz." He indicated the older man and woman and black-haired girl, who waved her hand a little. "And this is Max Evans." The solemn-looking teen nodded.  
  
"This is Roswell, New Mexico. You're at Roswell General Emergency Clinic."  
  
Roswell? Wasn't that... alien town? Alien spaceship supposed to have landed here in the forties... now the whole towns economy was based off the alien theme. Kinda wierd, really. I didn't think I would mention that, though. These people probably heard something to that effect from everyone who didn't live in Roswell. Well, can't say that... for all I know, I'm from here!  
  
"Roswell? How did I get here? Do I live here? I just remember waking up, and then all of you... but if I was just waking up then I'd be home in bed and I'm not... and I think I should shut up now." Wow, do I normally babble this much?  
  
The doctor smiled shook his head. "No, you don't live here. We were really kinda hoping you could help us with that - you see, Max and Liz found you unconscious in the desert earlier this evening."  
  
Eh? They did what?  
  
"Huh? I what?"  
  
"We found you a ways off the road, south of town. We're not sure how you got there either." Liz' voice was calm and soft, alost musical. I liked her already.  
  
"I guess that's why I'm in the hospital, then. Um... when is it? Like, what... what day?"  
  
The doctor looked at his watch. "June twenty-third, 2003."  
  
Summer equinox. That really didn't tell me much, considering I didn't know how long I'd been out. I looked around. That's when I noticed the paper hospital gown I was wearing.  
  
"Um... where are my clothes?"  
  
Liz turned a funny shade of pink. "You... didn't have any."  
  
I'm sure I turned much better colors than her. Max, thankfully, looked away - looking at his eyes would only make me think about him seeing me all naked and conked out. He was really very considerate, I could tell. But that didn't change the fact that I had been lying in the desert naked! I blushed again at the thought.  
  
"Oh. Um... uh... yeah." Now Liz' parents were giving Max the evil eye. He spoke for the first time, his voice quiet but full of authority. I could tell he was used to being listened to.  
  
"I'll go get the deputy. I'm sure he'll want to talk with her." With that, he left the room.  
  
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, the parents were having a furious whispered discussion in the corner, and the doctor - Monroe, his name was - busied himself with paperwork. Liz was left fidgeting at the bedside. She was wearing white shorts and a grey top. I watched her tuck her fine black hair behind her ear, and felt an odd pang of emotion. That motion seemed familiar, somehow... and not knowing why was killing me inside.  
  
Liz smiled shyly and spoke in a quiet tone. "How are you doing?"  
  
"I'm... I don't know. I'm so confused! I don't know who I am, or where I am, or anybody around, or why I feel so sad when I see you tuck your hair behind your ear... I should remember something! I feel like I know things, but they just aren't there..." The waterworks were in full effect now. Hot tears ran down my cheeks, my throat clamped up and I couldn't talk anymore.  
  
Liz sat there for a bit, watching me with a sad expression as I quietly cried. Then she reached out and took my hand in hers, and spoke softly to me.  
  
"Don't worry. It'll be okay."  
  
And, I believed her.  
  
Her voice cut right through all of my anger and pain, laid the core of me bare, made me think that no matter what, things would work out. I felt her strength - not physical, but spiritual - and was comforted by it. My tears stopped, and I smiled the way you do when you feel that, despite all that's happened, everything will turn out okay.  
  
"Hi," she said. "I'm Liz. It's nice to meet you."  
  
I was still wearing that foolishly happy grin when I blinked back some tears and introduced myself.  
  
"Thank you, Liz. I'm... the mystery girl."  
  
Liz frowned. "Yeah, you are. But, you need a name."  
  
"A name?" Yeah, dummy. I do.  
  
"What would you like to be called?"  
  
"I - I don't know. That's funny."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I think most people would jump at the chance to name themselves."  
  
Liz laughed softly. "Yeah, you're right. Do you have anything in mind?"  
  
I went over some possibilities in my head. Jennifer, Julie, Joan, Elizabeth, Hilary, Katy, Kristy... I couldn't seem to settle on anything that seemed appropriate; none of those names reflected me - or, at least, the parts of me I remember.  
  
"No... I haven't. Do... do you have any suggestions?"  
  
Liz was thoughtful. "Yeah. I do. I think... you look kinda like a Sarah."  
  
Sarah. The sound fit well, I think.  
  
"I... I like it. I'll be Sarah."  
  
She gave me a beaming smile, one that made me feel happy inside. Here was one person whom I could trust. I think I made a friend today.  
  
Her parents came over, having finished their discussion. Her mother put a hand on Liz' shoulder. Liz looked up to see what she wanted.  
  
"Honey, we've made a decision. Since our insurance is already paying for this girls' medical care, we could probably make some... arrangements, to keep her out of a shelter or state home."  
  
Did I just hear that right? These people were going to take me into their home? Oh sweet, merciful Goddess, I think I might start crying again. Truly, there is still goodness in some peoples heart.  
  
So... even though I don't know who I am, I have a name, a friend, and a home. Welcome to this world, Sarah. I hope you find what you're looking for. 


	4. Settling In

A/N: Wow. It's been two months even since I last posted. I do apologize to any (few and far between) who may have been waiting. There have been. circumstances. I moved, had surgery, and now I'm moving again. from upstate NY to Hawaii. God. Well, the time has not been idle. this chapter is fairly large (nearly 6000 words, 16+ pages). Once I got over a couple of week-long mental hurdles, things started moving again, and I'm onto the next chapter. where I've got another hurdle. Sigh. This writing thing kinda sucks sometimes, but, I really do enjoy it a bit. And, well, I hope you do too.  
  
Disclaimer: Not many, or any, actually, BtVS references here, but just to be on the safe side, it belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Roswell belongs to Jason Katims & Co.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Maria, you're never going to believe what happened today."  
  
"How can you say that, with all the crazy stuff we've been through?"  
  
"No, this is nothing like that. I think."  
  
"So no alien babies?"  
  
"Maria!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"That's something I really could not have been reminded of."  
  
Maria sighed into the phone. "Okay. So, what?"  
  
"Well, Max and I... found someone."  
  
"Found? I didn't know you had lost anybody."  
  
"No, Maria. As in... found, found. Someone who was lost. Sorta." Liz frowned.  
  
"Liz, I can hear you doing that frown-thing over the phone. Spill."  
  
She sighed. "Well, we were out driving on 285 South-"  
  
"Where were you going?"  
  
"Nowhere in particular."  
  
"Ooooh, cruisin' for love..."  
  
"Maria, shut up! So we're on 285 South about sunset, maybe five miles south of town, when Max starts freaking out."  
  
"I can already see a hole in your story."  
  
Liz paused. "What's that?"  
  
"Max doesn't freak."  
  
She sighed. "Well, if he was going to freak, it would probably be something like this. He said he saw something out in the desert, and was looking out for it... instead of driving! We were swerving all over the road."  
  
"Wow. That does sound freaky. Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. So we drive off down this little dirt side road, looking for whatever it was he saw."  
  
"In the convertible?"  
  
"Yeah. Bumpy ride. So, about a mile down this dirt road, we find someone."  
  
"Someone?"  
  
"Yeah, someone. A girl."  
  
"A girl? Who?"  
  
"Don't know."  
  
"Well, what was her name? What was she doing out there?"  
  
"That's just the thing. See, she was unconscious and naked."  
  
Maria gave a little yelp. "What?!?"  
  
"So, we took her to the hospital, and on the way, she woke up."  
  
"Well, what'd she say?"  
  
"Nothing. She just looked at me and got this horrified look, and passed right back out."  
  
"Wow. Creepy."  
  
"You have no idea. When she looked at me, it was... it was like she looked through me. Way scary." Liz shivered at the thought.  
  
"So what did the doctor say?"  
  
"Well, he said she was fine."  
  
"Fine?"  
  
"Yeah, fine. Perfect health. Just - asleep."  
  
"Wow. This is getting wierder."  
  
"Well, one of the sheriffs showed up and started interrogating Max and I. Pretty soon after that, my parents dropped by."  
  
"What did the deputy have to say? And why the 'rents?"  
  
"Mostly just stuff about where we found her, this, that, and the other. It sounded like he thought we knocked her over the head and dumped the body ourselves. And my parents... well, I called them."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Well, the hospital wouldn't treat her without insurance... so I gave them mine."  
  
"Once again... why?"  
  
"Well, I couldn't just leave her there! What was I supposed to do?"  
  
Maria sighed. "You're a sap, Liz. But you're a good sap. I bet the parents loved that."  
  
"Well, Dad was about to give me what for when the girl woke up."  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"So, who is she? What's the deal?"  
  
"Well, that's the thing. She doesn't know."  
  
"You're shittin' me."  
  
"Nope. She has no recollection of who she is, where she's from, or why she's in Roswell."  
  
"My God. Welcome to Roswell, land of the really, really, extremely strange."  
  
"I'm not done yet. How about this - she's living with me."  
  
Liz winced at the clatter from Maria dropping her phone. "What's wrong with you people? And your dad agreed to this?"  
  
Liz shrugged. "Actually, Mom suggested it. She'll be working at the Crashdown for room and board, and to help repay her hospital expenses, which, thankfully, there aren't going to be too many of; she's only staying tonight for observation."  
  
"Since when did your dad become a good Samaritan? He's a slave driver at the Crashdown!"  
  
"I don't know, Maria, but I can't wait for you to meet Sarah. She's really nice. There's just something about her..."  
  
"Sarah? I thought she had amnesia."  
  
"She does. That's the name she picked."  
  
"She's lucky - I wish I could've picked my name."  
  
Liz started laughing.  
  
"What? What'd I say?"  
  
"Oh, nothing." Another fit of giggling.  
  
"Are you sure this is a good idea, what with everything that's been on the news recently? You don't know anything about this girl, aside from the fact that she dropped from the sky with no memory! What if she's an alien, or a crazy person? You could get axe murdered!"  
  
"I won't get axe murdered, Maria. And she's human. We're sure of it - Max told me before we took her to the hospital."  
  
"So what does he think about this?"  
  
"Well, I'm not really sure. He doesn't exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, and he hasn't bothered to tell me."  
  
Maria was quiet for a moment. "I still don't know, Liz. Something feels off about it all."  
  
"Well, we're picking her up from the hospital tomorrow. You need to meet her - she's really sweet."  
  
"What about the rest of the pod squad? What do they have to say?"  
  
"Well, they really don't know yet. I got home and pretty much called you."  
  
Liz could hear Maria's smile. "You're the best."  
  
"Well, I need to head to the store and pick her up some clothes. Want to come with?"  
  
"Sure. I'll be by in ten minutes."  
  
"Later." Liz hung up.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Maria and Liz pulled into the parking lot of the hottest shopping spot in Roswell - Wal-Mart.  
  
"Wow, Liz, you're really going all out here," Maria observed as they entered the building.  
  
"Well, I'm not rich, and Gucci isn't exactly open at eleven p.m."  
  
"Why couldn't she just wear some of your stuff until she could come out here with us?"  
  
Liz stopped and faced Maria. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm tiny! Sarah has about seven or eight inches and like forty pounds on me."  
  
"Oh. So, we're shopping for someone like Isabel, then." They resumed walking.  
  
"Not quite so supermodel-y. Sarah's a pretty regular size girl... about the right height, though."  
  
"So what are we looking for?"  
  
"Let's just get her a couple of blouses and some pants - just something until she can come shopping with us."  
  
The girls picked out some clothes and were headed to the checkout when Maria's cell phone rang.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Maria? It's Max. Is Liz with you?"  
  
"Yeah. Why?"  
  
"I need both of you to meet me at the quarry in about half an hour. The Valenti's will be there too."  
  
"It's almost eleven-thirty! Couldn't this wait till morning?"  
  
"Just tell Liz."  
  
"Look, dude, I -" She was cut off by silence as Max hung up.  
  
"Who was that?"  
  
"Bossy the Alien Cow." Maria made a face.  
  
"And what'd Max want?"  
  
"He wants us to meet at the quarry in half an hour. Avengers assemble, or something."  
  
"This late?"  
  
"That's what I said. You know, he is pretty damn rude to everyone but you."  
  
Liz shrugged and handed her bank card to the cashier. "He means well."  
  
"Yeah, but - " Maria lowered her voice as they left the register with their purchases. She waited until they were outside to continue. "He's supposed to be a king. You'd think he'd score a little better in Popular Leadership 101." Maria popped the trunk, and Liz dropped in the clothes they had bought.  
  
"He can be a little... gruff at times, but he does mean well," Liz replied as they got into the car. "And it's not like Michael's the nicest person in the world either." Her voice had a hint of amusement in it.  
  
"Well, that's... okay, he's not, but he has his good qualities too." Maria had a little smile on her face.  
  
"Like what? Come on, Maria. You two fight more than any couple I've seen!"  
  
"He can be sweet sometimes! And considerate, too. And besides, he's really... uh... he's got nice eyes." Maria blushed.  
  
Liz stared at her friend, a look of understanding growing on her face.  
  
"You!" She pointed, her voice rising in mock horror. "You... you...you!"  
  
Maria glanced at Liz, then back to the road. "What?"  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?!?"  
  
"Liz! Speak!"  
  
"That you... and Michael..." She collapsed into her seat and smacked her forehead with a palm.  
  
"You want to be a doctor, Liz. I'm sure you can say it."  
  
"That you and Michael were... committing acts of nakedness, and you didn't bother to tell your best friend?"  
  
Maria spluttered and laughed. "I guess you could call it that. For someone so smart, you can be really squeamish sometimes."  
  
Liz stuck out her tongue. Maria laughed again.  
  
"So that's why Michael chose not to go back with the rest, then?"  
  
"Well, I'd like to think that it was a rare moment of lucidity, and not cause I was putting out." Liz punched her arm. "Ow!"  
  
"Don't be so crude!"  
  
"Alright! Jeez!" Maria rubbed her shoulder. "Sorry, it just... we've had issues, and it was just the one time, right before the Granolith left... and things got all crazy."  
  
Liz sighed. "Maria, I... its okay. I mean, that's the kind of thing you usually tell your best friend, right?"  
  
"I know, I meant to, but stuff kept getting in the way."  
  
They drove in silence for a while, the only sound the puttering of the Jetta's engine and the radio, tuned to an all-night rock station playing Matchbox 20. Liz sang along softly to herself.  
  
"Well, I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell and I know that right now you can't tell.  
  
"But stay a while and maybe then you'll see a different side of me...  
  
"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired and I know that right now you don't care.  
  
"But soon enough you're gonna think of me - and the way I used to be..."  
  
"You know, this means you'll never get to hear about my escapades." Liz' face was deadpan.  
  
Maria didn't even look away from the road. "Bullshit."  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Come on, Liz. If you ever did anything with Max besides kiss, Tess would be a dead alien bitch."  
  
"You know me too well." She sighed.  
  
Maria grinned toothily. "That's what I'm here for - to keep your raging hormones in check." She slowed and turned onto the quarry service road.  
  
"MY raging hormones? Oh, please! Where do you have room to talk?"  
  
"At least I got some, Parker. Don't knock it till you've tried it..."  
  
Liz made an indignant squeal of rage and attacked Maria, who was laughing to hard to either fend her off - or drive, for that matter. The Jetta swerved erratically on the gravel road until it came to rest at the bottom of the quarry, illuminated by the headlights of the other vehicles waiting.  
  
The two girls came out of the car laughing and shrieking, the petite brunette apparently doing her best to beat the taller Hispanic blond into a pulp. Max, his sister Isabel, their best friend Michael, and the ex-Sheriff Jim Valenti and his son Kyle stared incredulously.  
  
"What has you two all riled up?" Michael asked from his seat on the hood of his friend's convertible.  
  
"Nothing! Nothing at all. So what's up?" Maria caught Liz's wrists and held them behind the struggling brunette. The black-haired girl cast a friendly glare at her taller friend, and a muttered curse.  
  
"Slut."  
  
"Prude."  
  
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Kyle asked from his spot leaning on his father's jeep.  
  
"Just wondering why we're here... I'm tired." Maria went over to sit next to Michael on the car, leaning her head on his shoulder.  
  
"That's a good point. Max, what gives?"  
  
The tall, dark haired teen was silent for a moment, seemingly intent on his own thoughts. A good thirty seconds passed before his sister prompted him.  
  
"Max? What's up?"  
  
He spoke quietly. "Something happened today that I wanted you all today be aware of. Liz and I found a girl out in the desert."  
  
"So?" Michael took a bite from a candy bar.  
  
"We have no idea who she is, where she's from, or why she's here. And neither does she."  
  
"Do you think she's an alien?" The elder Valenti inquired.  
  
"No," Max shook his head, "And the doctor at the hospital seems to agree with me. But there is still something about her that isn't normal. I just want everybody to be careful around her."  
  
"Why do you say there's something wierd about her?" Isabel's voice was calm.  
  
"It's hard to describe. You know the energy field you sense around someone when you connect with them?"  
  
"Not really, but I'm listening." Kyle said wryly. Isabel and Michael merely nodded.  
  
"When we found her, I tried to touch her mind, to see if she was human. Well, she is - but that field is different from all the others I've felt - Kyle's and Liz's. It's hard to describe how. I don't really have a whole lot of experience in the matter."  
  
"What does that mean?" The ex-sheriff spoke again.  
  
"I'm not sure, Mr. Valenti. That's why I'm saying we should be careful."  
  
Maria, who had been quiet till now, spoke up. "It sounds like your talking about an aura."  
  
"Sort of like that, I guess." Max shrugged.  
  
"Well, wouldn't everyone's aura be different? That is something that's kinda personal, like a fingerprint."  
  
"True, and they are, but..." Max threw up his hands in a frustrated motion. "I'm not sure how to describe it. What I'm saying is she's not like us, but something about her is not like you either."  
  
Michael raised his hand. "Uh, Maxwell, why does any of this apply to us? It's not like we're going to see her."  
  
"Well, actually, she's living at my house. She'll be working at the Crashdown." Liz answered his question.  
  
"Oh. Huh?"  
  
"Yeah. What gives? I thought we all learned better from the last time I took a homeless alien into my home." Kyle's voice was bitter.  
  
"It's not like that, Kyle. She's not like Tess at all. Sarah is unbelievably nice, and sweet... plus the amnesia thing, so I'm thinking so not a threat."  
  
The elder Valenti raised an eyebrow. "Sarah?"  
  
"That's the name she decided on."  
  
"Well, this is all fascinating, but unless there's anything else, I'll be going." Michael slid off the hood of the convertible and got on his bike.  
  
"Where are you going?" Max asked.  
  
"Home - it's late, I'm tired, and I gotta work tomorrow, and why'd we have to come all the way out here for this? Later, Maxwell." His helmet visor clicked down, and the bike roared off into the night.  
  
"Well, he's touchy," Maria observed.  
  
"When is he not?" said Isabel.  
  
There was a jingle as Jim Valenti produced his keys. "He does have a point, though. We've gotta be going. Thanks for letting us know, Max, and Liz - good luck." The two got into their jeep and left.  
  
"Okay. Then I'll see you tomorrow, Liz?"  
  
She smiled and took his hand. "Sure. We'll go pick up Sarah from the hospital tomorrow morning about nine?"  
  
"What do you have planned for tomorrow?"  
  
She considered for a second. "Dad'll probably want her to start at the Crashdown -" she made a face - "but I think we'll do some other stuff, too, like get clothes and. stuff."  
  
Isabel was waiting in the car, as was Maria. One of them honked a horn. Liz jumped at the sudden noise.  
  
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"  
  
"Definitely. Tomorrow." Liz turned back to Maria's car, her hand lingering on his for a fleeting moment.  
  
Maria shifted the Jetta into drive as Liz slid into the car.  
  
"God, Parker, could you have any more sexual tension? Why don't you just get it over with?"  
  
"Maria! Come on. It's... complicated."  
  
"Prude."  
  
****  
  
Sarah awoke with the dawn. Yellow light streamed in the window and warmed her beneath the blankets. She smiled a contented smile and stretched languidly. She had always liked waking up.  
  
Sarah pushed aside the covers and stood, stretching as she looked out the window. A black expanse of asphalt greeted her.  
  
Oh yeah, she thought. I'm in a hospital.  
  
And still no idea who she was.  
  
The hospital room was spartan. The only furniture, besides the bed, was a chair and small table. The walls were a shade of red that reminded Sarah of adobe.  
  
'Well', she thought, 'Liz is coming to get me in a while. I should do my best to make myself all presentable-like.'  
  
She opened the door and peeped out into the hall, looking up and down for someone. She wanted to find a nurse, but was more than a little self- conscious about her flimsy paper gown. A moment later, a nurse walked into the station at the end of the hall. Sarah waved at her, but the woman's head was in a book.  
  
"Psst! Hello!" Sarah whispered fiercely, waving her arm madly while leaning a little into the hall. No luck. She jumped up and down. Still no luck.  
  
Sarah sighed in frustration and turned back into her room. Immediately, her eyes alighted on a little button stuck on the bed frame labeled "Nurse Call."  
  
"Oh. Duh..."  
  
This time, the nurse responded promptly. She knocked and entered to find Sarah sitting on the bed.  
  
"Can I help you, dear?"  
  
"Yeah... is there anywhere I can take a shower?"  
  
"Sure. The bathroom's right down the hall, that way." She pointed. "You should find a towel and slippers in the cupboard."  
  
"Okay... and... um... is there anyway I could get some clothes?" Sarah said sheepishly.  
  
"Why?" The nurse looked confused.  
  
"I... I don't have any."  
  
"Not even what you wore in?"  
  
Sarah blushed. "I was a little naked."  
  
"Oh. Well, I'll see if I can get you some scrubs."  
  
"Thanks," Sarah said gratefully. "These paper gowns aren't much with the covering-up."  
  
"No problem, dear."  
  
When Sarah returned from the shower, she found a set of loose, green scrub pants and a t-shirt with the hospitals logo folded on the bed. She smiled and brushed out her shoulder-length blonde hair, which was still a little wet from the shower.  
  
After changing into the clothes the nurse had left, Sarah climbed onto her bed and sat Indian style in the swath of light streaming in through the window. She took a deep breath to calm herself... felt her heart beating and her breath moving in slow, regular time. When her body was in rhythm, Sarah eased her mind into a relaxing subconscious state. The simple meditation refreshed her, and replenished the reserves of energy she had expended during the night. Sarah was very uncomfortable sleeping in a place that had not been warded against all the evil things she knew lurked in the night. She hadn't even really slept the night before - her rest was light, and dreamless, as it was wont to be when you kept the psychic equivalent of one eye open all night.  
  
And that was how Max and Liz found her - perched on the bed Indian style, elbows on knees with her head in her hands. Her hair, which was still damp, hung loosely about her face.  
  
"Sarah! Are you awake?" Liz said after knocking on the slightly open door.  
  
She took a slow, deep breath and opened her eyes. "Yeah - come in."  
  
"Are you feeling okay?" Liz said, a note of concern in her voice.  
  
"Yeah! I'm fine. Feeling surprisingly good for just having woken up from a coma." She said lightly, untangling her legs and standing to greet her guests.  
  
"Hi, Max." She raised a hand in salutation.  
  
"Morning." Max leaned on the doorframe.  
  
"Here you go... thought you'd like some clothes." Liz dropped a small backpack on the bed.  
  
"Thanks! I - I mean, you didn't have to."  
  
"Actually, I did. We have a law against public indecency." Liz smiled matter-of-factly.  
  
"Oh." Sarah blushed. "Well, yeah."  
  
"I guessed on the sizes. There's only a few things in there - we can go out and get more stuff today."  
  
"Liz, you - I mean, I couldn't..."  
  
"Of course you can. That is, unless you want to sport Roswell General forever. We'll let you get changed." She pushed Max out the door and closed it after them. Max remained his usual unflappable self.  
  
"You know, you could've let her get a word in edgewise," he observed.  
  
Liz shrugged. "I just want to make sure she's okay."  
  
"Why are you doing this? It isn't like you."  
  
"It isn't like me to what? Help a person in need?"  
  
"No, not that. This is way more than helping someone in need."  
  
"Is it?"  
  
"Yes! It's like picking up a stray puppy..." Inwardly, he winced.  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "I know you didn't just say that."  
  
"Liz..." At that moment, the door opened and Sarah, dressed in a dark green blouse and khaki pants, came into the hall.  
  
"I can't thank you enough for this, Liz. For all of this," she said quietly.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Sarah. I know you'd do the same for me."  
  
The blonde girl frowned. "How do you know?"  
  
Liz gave her a warm smile. "I just do. Let's get out of here, okay?"  
  
Sarah grinned back, the relief and happiness apparent on her face. "Sure."  
  
*******  
  
The next few hours were spent acquainting Sarah with the sights in Roswell - the sheriff's office, the school, the UFO museum, the Crashdown... Liz and Max were hard pressed to come up with anything else in the town of any significance, which Sarah found endlessly amusing.  
  
"So this entire town's economy is based around aliens?" Sarah asked, leaning forward to the front seats of the convertible.  
  
"The aliens don't actually provide much business," Liz replied seriously. "It's the tourists looking for them."  
  
Sarah giggled. "So how do you guys feel about it? I mean, aliens?"  
  
Liz stole a quick glance at Max. "Jury's out," he said calmly. "Traveling between the stars? It sounds kinda farfetched."  
  
"Oh, come on," Sarah said. "Didn't you watch Star Trek?"  
  
"You remember Star Trek?"  
  
"Well, yeah - I think." She frowned. "Bald guy, big ship, two good movies and one bad one?"  
  
"That would be it."  
  
"What about you, Liz?" She turned to the dark-haired girl.  
  
Liz turned her head to look at Max. "I haven't lost hope."  
  
Max glanced at Sarah in the mirror. "Do you believe in aliens?"  
  
She shrugged. "I'd be surprised if there weren't. With all the other strange stuff in this world, aliens would seem almost normal."  
  
That was an answer Max had not been expecting. Just what was she talking about?  
  
Liz was apparently wondering the same thing. "Stuff like what?"  
  
Sarah mentally smacked her forehead. Ooops. Uuuh... "You know, like Michael Jackson, the Spice Girls, and robot dogs." She made a little doggie hand puppet that went Yip! Yip! Yip!  
  
Liz gave a wide-eyed sideways glance at Max, who had a little half-smile on his face, and couldn't help but laugh. She looked back at Sarah, whose blonde hair was drying in the wind. She was wearing an innocent grin. 'This girl reminds me of Alex.' The thought flashed across Liz' mind, and brought the familiar pain with it. It felt wrong to laugh at a joke that could've been his... like she was somehow betraying her friend. But Sarah made some of that pain go away. Liz had known the girl for less than a day, but already felt a strong kinship, a sisterly affection for this person who had just been royally screwed by whatever powers that be. Despite circumstances that could be described as 'just about the worst possible', Sarah still managed to radiate life and warmth. It was hard not to be cheerful around her.  
  
"Lunch?"  
  
Sarah shrugged. "I could eat."  
  
The convertible pulled up to the Crashdown, and the three ducked inside the diner. Liz waved at Maria and headed to their usual booth. Maria brought two glasses of Coke.  
  
"Hey! What's up?" Max gave her a gesture of greeting that vaguely resembled a wave.  
  
"Sorry, I don't know what you like to drink... you must be Sarah. Liz is just being rude."  
  
"Hi." Sarah gave a beaming smile. "Just water, please."  
  
"No problem." She went to fetch a glass.  
  
"So this is where I'll be working?" Sarah asked.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"I don't know if I'm any good as a waitress."  
  
"It's really not that tough. Look, Maria's doing it!" Liz raised her voice just as Maria returned.  
  
"I hope you're not making fun of me, Parker, cause it would just break my heart." She sat down with them, next to Max. Liz and Sarah were next to each other on the other side of the table.  
  
"How do you like Roswell so far?" Maria asked the other blonde.  
  
"Flat - and hot." Sarah took a big gulp of water.  
  
"We have lots of that here," Max pointed out.  
  
"Oh! Almost forgot. Sorry." Maria pulled a menu from her pocket and slid it over to Sarah. "It's been awhile since I had to pull a menu out for this crowd."  
  
"It's okay. I think I'll have..." She looked up with an expression that combined amusement and shock.  
  
"What's going on with these names?"  
  
The three Roswellians laughed. "It's part of the gimmick," Liz explained.  
  
"Sure. Then... a salad?"  
  
"Alien Plant Platter, comin' up." Maria slid out of the booth.  
  
"She's kidding, right?" Sarah looked at the menu. "Oh Goddess, she's not."  
  
Liz was laughing really, really hard. Max even cracked a smile.  
  
***  
  
The sun was setting over the New Mexico desert. It was a sight that Sarah had never seen before - or at least didn't think she had. Standing on the rooftop that served as Liz' balcony, she had an excellent vantage point to see the sun sink below the western horizon. The sand slowly turned from blinding white to a deep red when the sun touched the mountains... what were they called? Sangre de Cristo, the Blood of Christ.  
  
Sarah shivered and pulled a blanket around her. The wind was kicking up out of the east, and the desert rapidly cooling. Her blonde hair streamed out in the wind. The desert was fading from red to purple now, the sun almost obscured by the low mountains. The harsh beauty filled Sarah with wonder. She started to sing quietly, the winds snatching the words and carrying them out to the sand and sky. The tune was old - it had first been sung in the highlands of Scotland, nearly two thousand years before.  
  
"Sarah? You here?"  
  
Liz ducked out the window and came to stand beside the taller girl.  
  
"Yep, I'm right over here. Just me, over here."  
  
Liz smiled and sat on the ledge. She had put a light brown jacket over the tanktop she had been wearing earlier.  
  
"It can get cold out here at night, you know."  
  
Sarah tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I noticed."  
  
"Why are you out here, then? You should probably be making with the rest or something."  
  
"I know, but... I wanted to watch the sunset."  
  
"It is really pretty out here."  
  
"Yeah, the desert has its own sort of charm."  
  
"Yep."  
  
For a moment, the only sound was the low whistle of the wind and the faint sound of music from down the street. The two girls watched the sunset in silence. As the last rays slipped under the horizon, Liz spoke up.  
  
"What were you singing?"  
  
Sarah looked to the west, to the desert. "When?"  
  
"Just now, when I came out. I didn't catch the words, but it was very pretty. Sounded almost familiar." Liz swung her feet over the edge of the roof.  
  
"Oh. It's. um. its called a vesper. It's sung to greet the sun in the morning, and bid it safe journey in the evening."  
  
"Wow. I've never heard of that before."  
  
Sarah shook her head. "I don't know where it comes from either. I mean, I feel like I should, but... it just feels like something I should do. It kinda feels familiar, like it's something I used to know, but fell into this hole in my memory... and now it's one of the only things I've got left."  
  
Liz stood up. "Come on."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Let's go."  
  
"Where?"  
  
Liz pushed her back to the window. "I want to show you something. Get some shoes."  
  
***  
  
"It's not too much farther." Liz scrambled over some rocks, and gave a hand to help Sarah. The blonde climbed up and took Liz' hand to jump up the last bit.  
  
"So, do you do much late-night rock climbing here?" Sarah brushed her hands off on her pants and looked up the trail.  
  
Liz laughed. "You'd be surprised, actually."  
  
"What's the occasion?"  
  
"I just wanted to show you this place. I come up here sometimes to think, and sort things out. I figured you'd appreciate it." Just then, they came to the end of the trail and crested the ridge. The desert spread out beneath them, an endless sea of sand. Roswell was a twinkling pool of light in the distance. The sky was a deep midnight blue rather than black. Stars, both faint and bright, spattered across the heavens. The Milky Way was clearly visible, a dense smear of light in the north. The two girls paused.  
  
"Wow... there are so many stars!"  
  
"Yeah - I love it out here. You can see so much more of the sky than from town." Liz sat down on a convenient rock. Sarah sat cross-legged on the ground a few feet away.  
  
"It's so peaceful. I can see why you'd come up here to be alone." The night air was still, cool, and utterly quiet. Sarah found herself almost whispering to keep from spoiling it.  
  
"I used to come up here in junior high, with Alex. We were in an astronomy class, and his dad had a telescope..."  
  
Sarah was silent as the other girls voice trailed off. She could tell that her friend was upset. She looked at Liz with her mind's eye, and saw the dark-haired girl's aura was a dull silver.  
  
"Who's Alex?" She asked quietly.  
  
"He's... he was my best friend. Maria, Alex and I. He died a few months ago."  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay... it's just sometimes things remind me of him. Completely random things, and it's like it starts all over again."  
  
"What was he like?"  
  
Liz blinked back a tear and quickly dried it with her sleeve. "He was kind of like you, actually. Always cheerful, kinda goofy, smiled a lot... always seemed full of life. Made lots of obscure jokes." Her voice wavered ever so slightly.  
  
"And I remind you of him?"  
  
"A little."  
  
A cricket chirped and hopped up on Sarah's knee. She gently coaxed it onto her finger and set it back on the ground.  
  
"How did it happen?"  
  
"He was in a car accident." Liz' voice was toneless. She didn't want to go into the story with Tess, and how the conniving bitch murdered her best friend.  
  
Sarah shook her head sadly. It couldn't help but suck when someone you loved died... but, she could tell there was more to the story. No need to push, though. Everyone deals in their own way.  
  
A thought suddenly occurred to Sarah, and before she realized it, she was talking.  
  
"My mother died... when I was seventeen. I... I know how you feel - I had all these thoughts, and feelings, like... like I was a bad person, like it was somehow my fault... but, it gets better. If - if you ever need to talk about it..."  
  
The dark-haired girls expression softened.  
  
"Oh, jeez, Sarah, I'm sorry. I don't want to dump my problems on you. You've got your own stuff to... Hey! I - I thought you couldn't remember anything!"  
  
Sarah paused. "I..." - and just as quickly as it came, the memory slipped away, swallowed into the darkness at the bottom of her mind.  
  
"I did." She held her face in her hands. "It's gone again - just like that. Nothing but a flash."  
  
"But that's a good sign, at least!"  
  
Sarah looked up. "You think so?"  
  
Liz smiled confidently. "I know so. That means your memory is still there - and that it could come back, with time."  
  
"Yeah. I guess you're right." The blonde girl brushed aside a loose lock of hair that had fallen in her eyes, and curled her knees up to her chest.  
  
Both girls were quiet for a moment. Sarah gazed out over the desert, which was tranquil and empty. She then looked at it with her other eyes, and saw that it was full of life - far more than was out during the day. The shifting auras of hundreds of small animals made the desert sand fairly glow with silvery-blue light.  
  
"Oh, wow. Look at that!" Liz pointed to the southern sky.  
  
Sarah snapped out of her reverie and turned to look. The southern sky was filled with hundreds of falling streaks of light.  
  
"Wow. Is that a...?"  
  
"Meteor shower. I didn't know there was supposed to be one tonight."  
  
"I've never seen one before - at least, I don't think I have. It's really beautiful."  
  
"I haven't seen many. One's this big are really rare." Her voice was quiet, as if speaking too loud would shatter the scenes fragile beauty. Standing there, on top of a mountain on a clear summer night, both girls felt a bit of awe as they watched stars quietly fall from heaven. It was a powerful and moving sight.  
  
"You know," Sarah said, "its times like these that just make you feel... like, somehow, everything will turn out okay."  
  
Liz smiled. "You know what? I think you're right."  
  
Sarah turned to her host and grinned mischievously. "So... tell me about Max."  
  
Liz laughed, the first time she had done so that night.  
  
"Well, you see, it started about two years ago. I was at work, at the Crashdown, when these two guys who were arguing started shooting at each other. Max and Michael - you'll meet him later - were there, and..."  
  
So Liz told Sarah the tale of how she and Max had met, omitting the slightly more extraterrestrial parts. It was a good story, nonetheless, one that suited the locale. Sarah quickly became so wrapped up in the recounting, and Liz in the telling, that neither noticed the time slipping by, nor the nighttime chill of the desert.  
  
Nor the one particularly bright meteor that did not burn out in the upper atmosphere like its cousins - but instead fell all the way to the horizon, and vanished without a trace.  
  
--End Chapter 4-- 


	5. Portents & Preludes

A/N: It's been like 4 months since I updated this story. Pretty lax, huh? Well, it's all for a good reason. I'm living in Hawaii now! So, clearly, I've been a little preocuppied going to the beach and all. But, all the downtime has given me plenty of time to think and plan, plan and think... so, after the standard disclaimer (I own nothing here, aside from the Palm on which this was written and the rather pathetic plot) we'll get to the point.  
  
~~~~~Starts Here~~~~~  
  
"Sir, there's something here you might want to see."  
  
"Yes, Major?" Major General John Hammond looked up from the stack of paperwork on his desk.  
  
"Last night, approximately 2345 hours, NORAD picked up a possible airspace violation along the southern border of New Mexico." Samantha Carter presented the three-star with a few sheets of paper, one a map of the southwestern United States, the others columns of data concerning radar returns.  
  
"Possible? Major, it either is or it isn't. Why do you think this warrants the attention of the SGC?"  
  
"Well, sir, the radar telemetry was very faint. Our radar only barely picked it up, even with the new algorithms we got from the Asgard. Roswell, Lackland and Site 7 didn't even get a blip."  
  
Hammond steepled his fingers and leaned forward over the desk.  
  
"I see. What was the nature of the contact?"  
  
Carter checked a notepad. "It was metallic, moving at somewhere between Mach 7 and 9, heading north at roughly 100,000 feet."  
  
"Good eye, Major," Hammond said. "For some reason, I don't think thats Mexican."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"Where did we lose tracking on the contact?"  
  
"Somewhere over Roswell County, New Mexico. There was a meteor shower last night - it's really a miracle we picked anything up at all."  
  
The general leaned back. "So you don't think it was a meteor, then?"  
  
"Call it my gut feeling, sir. A meteor shower is the perfect time to attempt an orbital insertion undetected. The data is just too fishy to overlook."  
  
"Alright then, Major. Prepare a brief for a team from Roswell Air Force Base. Standard search and retrieval parameters."  
  
Carter nodded. "Yes, sir." She stood and saluted. The general returned it.  
  
"Dismissed, Major."  
  
*********  
  
Sarah yawned and stretched her arms, feeling each muscle twinge in turn. It was coming up on two in the morning, and they had just gotten back from stargazing. Liz had taken first dibs on the shower, leaving Sarah alone in the spare bedroom. Definitely time for sleep.  
  
Just one thing she needed to do first.  
  
Sarah took from her pocket a small leather coinpurse that she had purchased today during her shopping with Liz and Max. She opened it and took out a small pinch of sand that had come from the mountaintop earlier that night, which she then sprinkled across the doorstep. She put more on the windowsill and in a circle around her room. The rest she poured into her cupped hand, then sat indian-style on the bed. She took a few moments to center herself, then began.  
  
"Sandman, Morpheus, hear my words, Dream-King! I beseech thee, grant me safety in your realm this night. Guard my soul while I wander the dreamfields. Protect my vessel until the shroud of night fades. So mote it be!"  
  
With the last, she threw the handful of sand into the air. It briefly shone with unearthly white light, scattered, and vanished as the ward took hold. To her other sight, a shining web of force surrounded her bedroom.  
  
Sarah breathed out slowly; she was suddenly more tired than she had been before she cast the ward, but she did not begrudge the investiture of personal power it took to do so. Such a powerful shield, a direct appeal to one of the Powers, was a necessity in her mind. She knew about all the different kinds of evil that, all too often, went bump in the night. However, there were not many things she knew of that could cross such a barrier without... extreme discomfort.  
  
"You still awake?"  
  
Liz' musical voice jerked Sarah back to reality. The petite brunette was at her door, clad in a towel, her black hair clinging to her neck. She wore an expression of concern.  
  
"Yeah... barely." Sarah gave a tired smile.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have kept you up so late. You look like you're ready to pass out."  
  
"I'll be fine once I get a few hours of sleep." She sounded more convinced than she felt.  
  
"You were in a coma two days ago. Maybe you ought to take it easy for a while."  
  
Sarah sighed. "You're right. No more midnight mountain climbing."  
  
Liz laughed softly. "At least for a while. Go to bed."  
  
"Okay." She smiled. "See you tomorrow."  
  
"Night!" Liz vanished down the hall, her bare feet hardly making a sound. She was, Sarah thought, apparently an expert at late-night comings and goings. Sarah was pretty sure that Max could tell a few of those stories.  
  
She fell back on the bed, her head hitting the pillow with a very undignified thud. The spell had taken a lot out of her - more so, perhaps, than she wanted to admit, even to herself. It was a little foolish to attempt a casting so soon after... well, she wasn't sure what, but it had apparently not been healthy.  
  
Once again, Liz demonstrated that most rare of human qualities - concern for her fellow man. Or woman. Whatever. Some day soon, Sarah resolved, she was going to extend the shields she had just woven around Liz, and the elder Parkers as well. It was a small step towards repaying the kindness they had shown her.  
  
But for now - sleep. Stupid lights.  
  
Sarah, still flat on her back, really couldn't muster the energy to get out of bed. Instead, she spun out a thin tendril of psychic force, and with a small gesture, shut the door and turned out the lights.  
  
That night, she dreamed of falling stars.  
  
********  
  
"Walker Control, this is Griffon Flight Lead, entering your airspace."  
  
"Griffon Lead, Walker Control, we have you on radar. Be advised, your altitude is low."  
  
"Walker Control, Griffon, we are operating under special military jurisdiction. Please vector all traffic away from our position."  
  
There was a brief pause. "Roger that, Griffon Lead." There was another pause. " How much airspace do you require?"  
  
"Walker Control, Griffon, we require a five mile radius to 10,000 feet."  
  
"Walker Control copies five miles up to flight level ten."  
  
"Thank you for your cooperation, Walker Control. Griffon Squadron out."  
  
The three UH-60C Blackhawks of Griffon Squadron raced low over the desert in the pre-dawn darkness. Major Noah Hale flexed his hand on the controls of his helicopter, Griffon Lead, and checked the navcomputer for his ETA to the search zone. The mission parameters had been somewhat vague: search for and identify a possible downed craft in the New Mexico desert. Render aid as nescessary. They weren't the most ambiguous orders he had recieved in his two years of duty at Site 7, the DOD installation more commonly known as Area 51, but they were damn close.  
  
Ten Airborne Rangers were mounted in the back of his Blackhawk, all grim men in their late twenties, all veterans with at least 5 years of service. Griffon Two carried a squad of Marine Force Recon, and Griffon Three a unit of Navy SEALS seconded from SEAL Team 6.  
  
Whatever they were looking for had really pissed someone off.  
  
Hale checked his map again. They were almost to the crash site.  
  
The first rays of dawn streamed red over the mountains just as the black choppers flared and hovered over forests on the foothills of the mountain. The major keyed his radio.  
  
"Griffon flight, we're going to commence a standard spiral search pattern, centered on this location. Five mile radius. AWACS coverage indicates nothing on the ground, so we're going to have to do this the hard way. Two, pay close attention to the forest. Three, swing around that mountain and get a good look in all the ravines and gullies. Griffon Flight, acknowledge."  
  
"Two copies."  
  
"Three copies."  
  
The helicopters banked off to take up their assigned positions. Bright beams of light cut through the darkness as searchlights were deployed.  
  
Major Hale adjusted his grip on the stick of his bird and sighed. They had over 75 square miles of ground to cover. This was going to take awhile.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"So- how was the first day?"  
  
Sarah sighed and pulled off her alien-eyes headband.  
  
"I have eyes on springs... and a green dress. About as good as it could be expected, I guess."  
  
Liz smiled sympathetically. "I know, it's not the best, but hey... imagine how I feel. I kinda don't have a choice. Dad owns the place and all." The two were in the Crashdowns back room, heading up the stairs to the apartment.  
  
"No, it's not that, it's just... I don't think I've ever been in the food industry before. I'll get used to it."  
  
"Well, what do you want to do this afternoon?" They entered Liz' bedroom, and she plopped down on the bed.  
  
Sarah shrugged. "Not sure... what is there?"  
  
"Not much. We could... uh... go bowing?"  
  
Sarah went to sit Indian style on the floor, then thought better of it. She just folded her legs underneath her and smoothed the short skirt out as best she could.  
  
"I dunno. I get a feeling I'm not a good bowler."  
  
"You don't have to be. Come on, who really is?"  
  
Sarah giggled. "Okay, true."  
  
"On the other hand, this could very well be a popcorn-and-movie night."  
  
"It very well could be," Sarah agreed.  
  
"You could meet Maria, and Isabel... yeah, I think it's movies tonight."  
  
"Who's Isabel?"  
  
"I thought I mentioned her last night. She's Max's sister."  
  
"Oh - yeah, I think you did. What's she like?"  
  
Liz frowned and paused for a second. "When I first met her, I didn't like her very much - she was preppy and all Ice Queen-y. But once you get to know her... she's a great friend to have."  
  
"Sounds like how I would expect Max's sister to be."  
  
Liz's head popped up and looked down, over the edge of the bed. "Why do you say that?"  
  
Sarah was fidgeting with her hands, to which she paid a great deal of attention. "He's - he just seems like someone who's very... intense, who always tries to carry the weight of the world, but... cares a lot about people, too."  
  
Liz laughed and swung her feet out of bed. "That's him, just about in a nutshell. I'll call Maria and Isabel."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Lead, Griffon Three. I have something you may be interested in."  
  
"Go ahead, Three."  
  
"I've located what appears to be a crash furrow on the other side of this mountain. No sign of a craft."  
  
"Roger that, Three. Establish a perimeter."  
  
"Copy that."  
  
Griffon Three's Blackhawk came to hover thirty feet over the rocky slope. Black shapes slid silently down ropes and quickly secured the area.  
  
Lieutenant Christian Holst was second on the ground. His SEALs moved like ghosts in the dawn, silent shadows flitting from cover to cover. He quickly glanced over the area and signaled to his 2IC.  
  
"LT?"  
  
"Is the area hot?"  
  
"We'll know in a minute."  
  
Another SEAL was kneeling over the trench with an instrument. He turned and gave a thumbs up.  
  
"Griffon Lead, area is secure."  
  
Within a minute, two other Blackhawks approached from the west, flaring out further down the furrow. Soldiers fast-roped to the ground and swiftly deployed around the perimeter. Other shapes vanished into the shadows of the trench. Holst watched from his end, crouched low with his weapon at the ready. For the moment, all that was heard was the whump-whump of the Blackhawks' rotors.  
  
"First Section, report."  
  
"Command, there appears to be a opening to a cavern. We are proceeding to investigate."  
  
"Very well." Silence.  
  
"Sir, the cave network appears to be fairly extensive. There is an artifact - "  
  
The sharp crack of gunfire rang out in the red morning light. Weapons snapped to shoulders. Automatic fire echoed from the rocky hills, sounding at first in groups of three, then long, sustained bursts.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Command, area is secure. Marines are down - get the corpsman down here!"  
  
"Roger that. Moving." Holst moved for the entrance to the cavern, his SEALs following. The Navy corpsman with their unit was the first in the hole.  
  
The cave, awash with green light from Cyalume chem-sticks, was dominated by a spacecraft that was clearly not of human origin. Marines in desert camo and tactical webbing covered down in the rocks, covering the paths deeper into the cave. Three more secured the bullet-ridden carcass of the creature that had attacked them.  
  
Gunnery Sargeant Jacobs had shucked his shredded body armor, BDU jacket and t-shirt and was gingerly cleaning the four deep, bloody furrows that ran from his left shoulder across his chest. His left arm hung limp at his side.  
  
"How ya feelin', Gunny?"  
  
"Like an alien monster sliced me open fucking Predator style, Doc."  
  
The corpsman knelt beside the wounded Marine and broke out his bag.  
  
"What the hell did that?"  
  
Jacobs winced as the corpsman flushed the wound. "That critter over there got the drop on us... came off the ceiling. I barely missed... aaahh, goddammit... being disembowled. I tagged the fucker, though." He patted the H&K G36 on the ground next to him.  
  
"You should really be more careful, you know."  
  
"Fuck you, Doc."  
  
Lieutenant Holst stood between a rock and a hard place - or, rather, a dead alien juggernaught and the spaceship it flew in on.  
  
The craft was small - about the size of a Blackhawk, he figured. Certainly not large enough to travel between the stars. The thing didn't even have any visible engines. It was kind of unnerving.  
  
Then again, there was the alien corpse. The thing must have been 800 pounds of corded muscle and wicked claws. It was scary as hell. Fortunately, it was also quite dead. He kicked it for good measure.  
  
"How are we doing, Master Chief?"  
  
"It's all in hand, L-T. We're baggin' and taggin right now." His senior enlisted man responded.  
  
"Good. I want to be out of here ASAP. Let the coats coms out and play with their toys - this place gives me the heebies."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
****  
  
Kor'val watched the humans with contempt. He stood unseen in their midst - it was simplicity itself to cloud their minds against his presence. Still, he must accord the human warriors honor. They had arrived with frightening speed, captured his ship, and destroyed his ka'bo'ken battle construct.  
  
All was proceeding as he had forseen.  
  
The humans believed that the threat had been contained... after all, if they had found a ship, but no passenger, his presence would have been suspected.  
  
Now, his mission could be achieved with none the wiser. The Royals would be punished for their insolence. And he - Kor'val, First hashashim of Antar, would be the instrument of K'vars vengeance.  
  
~~~~End Chapter 5~~~~ 


End file.
